Follow Me, Boys!

So, we did it. We took the kids on an overnight hike and camped out under the stars. We’ve been “training” them for this for a long time –  allowing them to put up the tents in the backyard  and play with all the camping pots and pans every time we come to Colorado or even set it up in the basement when we come in the winter months. Not sure if it was intentional to make sure they someday wanted to camp out or if it was a delay tactic – maybe a combination of both. But for months leading up to this trip there’s been discussion that only Carter and Kiefer were interested in camping out with Daddy-O.  The consensus among the younger boys was they would rather sleep in the house in warm beds where there were no risks of bears.  Griffin had heard Nana say something about bears living in Colorado so there was no convincing him otherwise. (As Jim tried to convince me years ago when we did our first overnight hike. I knew better, but he still tried.) I bravely volunteered to stay back with them. ๐Ÿ™‚

It was evident that an overnight was unavoidable this trip as Carter and Kiefer were into the pots and pans as soon as we arrived and had their backpacks packed with more stuff than I packed for all six of us for our whole trip! (which is really saying something!)
Not that they needed it, but they also had further ammunition that they had recently watched the old movie “Follow Me, Boys!” starring Andy Griffith about the founder of Boy Scouts and with that, the deal was sealed.  Along the few hikes we had done early into the trip were numerous questions of my Eagle Scout husband about “Were you a platoon leader?” or “Have you ever eaten dandelions?” or “Do you know how to tie a sheepshank knot?”and inquiring about what he did for his Eagle project. Did I mention that Carter also found Jim’s old Boy Scout Handbook and he’s now reading it cover to cover deciding which merit badges he will earn first when he becomes a boy scout?  (which he can’t begin until he’s 10 and going into fifth grade – a whole year away!) 
I’m seeing glimpses of how my husband achieved his Eagle Scout by age 13 in our eager beaver son.  Jim has advised against our doing Cub Scouts as it’s more arts and crafts for the younger aged boys and I think he was secretly hoping they wouldn’t take up an interest in scouting. Maybe he had his fill of it? But I can tell you that on countless occasions I’ve been grateful to be married to an Eagle Scout and I always have an anxiety alleviating confidence that if ever we were to be in an emergency situation Jim would know what to do because he just knows how to do stuff. Mostly, it’s just the way he thinks, but I also attribute a lot of his knowledge and know-how to his past scouting days. It’s probably shaped him more than he realizes.
So, we put all these skills to the test and packed the bed rolls, the sleeping bags, tents, flies, water canteens, the camping burner, matches, stuff sacks, rope, pocket knives, flash lights, pots, pans, cooking utensils, bug spray, and enough food and snacks for 24 hours (or at least 12).
As all this flurry of activity was going on around him, Griffin, who had been the most outright opposed to this whole camping idea spoke up and said “I want to goโ€ฆ”  It was the most sincere, genuine plea to be included in this right of passage into big boyhood that I’ve witnessed.  But his older brothers had been looking forward to this father-son, male bonding time in the deep woods just the two of them with Dad started trying to convince him otherwise. “You don’t want to go, remember, there might be bears?” and “There’s not enough room for you in the tent.” or other more self-sacrificial comments like “You would be scared and I don’t want you to not get any sleep tonight, you better stay home with Mom and Fletcher.”  The lobbying continued, but Griffin had had a heart change and he really wanted to go now.  
I knew that logistically for Jim to take three boys up the mountain would require more gear – another tent, anther sleeping bag, more water, more food, etc. He was going to need another back to help carry all the equipment. Not to mention, it might be good to have an extra set of hands.  I then sacrificed my alone time evening that I was secretly looking forward to – putting the boys to bed and then staying up late watching movies or taking a bubble bath or eating cereal alone late into the night and instead I volunteered that we should all go and make this a fun, family adventure.
The eye rolls and huffing that followed were just the beginning of the resistance I was disappointed to receive from my older boys. In fact, it escalated to the point where I had to take TJ’s advice and “walk around the barn a couple of times” but in this case, I went to the grocery store and bought the camping food items needed for six for dinner and breakfast. 
When I returned, I tried to rise above it and focused on packing for the six of us to go despite the reluctance.There were forced apologies, but none the less, we were crashing their party and they weren’t too happy about it.
We packed the backpacks appropriately for each aged boy: Carter, being the oldest carried his sleeping bag, some of his brothers clothes as well as his own, some water, pots and pans and cooking utensils. Kiefer carried his own sleeping bag, everyone’s fleeces, more cooking supplies and necessities. Griffin had all the toiletries including everyone’s toothbrushes, bug spray and the dish soap as well as the all important T.P. and at the bottom of his bag I noticed he had packed his blanket. Fletcher carried his blankie and his favorite dog, Jingles.  Daddy-O and I carried the rest. Three tents, four sleeping bags, two bed rolls, the food, water, the camping burner, our clothes, flashlights, the camera, our iPhones and Jim’s iPad. (which I didn’t know he brought until he pulled it out to read at night! ๐Ÿ™‚ Which proves we weren’t too far from civilization, but it felt a lot further away!
We waited out a few rain clouds to see what they would do and decided to go for it late in the afternoon/early evening.  As we hiked along – Jim carrying his 50+ pound pack, me carrying my 35+ lb. pack and the boys each carrying their own weight – the boys started singing “Follow Me, Boys, Follow Meโ€ฆ pick ’em up, put ’em down and follow me!” as the sun was starting it’s descent over the mountain peak casting an angelic glow about them.  We picked an easy trial called North Ten Mile Creek because its near the house with a creek that runs parallel to the trail the whole way up to the beaver dams at the top of the hike.  According to the trail guide book, it should have only taken about 20-30 minutes to ascend, but with full packs and lots of breaks we reached the top an hour later.  We selected a campsite opposite the creek but you could still hear the rushing water of the adjacent creek.  There was already a stone lined camp fire with evidence of previous campers but plenty of firewood was readily available making it a perfect camp site.  With the precision of a military operation Jim had the tents set up in record time – trying to have it all set up before the sun ducked completely behind the mountainside.  I busied myself starting dinner – steak quesidillas with grilled peppers and an avocado relish for those interested or just plain old cheese quesidillas (or a flour tortilla) for the less adventuresome adventurers.  We boiled hot water over the camp stove to make hot chocolate and we warmed up near the fire as the temperature started dropping with the sun.  It was then that Carter came up and apologized and gave me a hug and said he was glad that I had come along.  I was glad I had too.  I would have missed missing this!
Sweet little Fletcher climbed into his tent and put on his jammies and snuggled into his sleeping bag ad was asleep soon after dinner.  The rest of us gathered around the campfire for a few songs and stories.  The nearly full moon peeked out from behind some clouds and served as the perfect night light.  Each camper was bestowed his very own pocket sized flash light in honor of their first overnight hike and soon beams of light were cast all over the valley.  We brushed our teeth using a canteen and went to the bathroom by some nearby trees. Daddy-O secured the remaining food in a stuff sack and tied it up in a nearby tree top.  With all eyes watching as he did that and all knowing the reason why.  It was then time to snuggle into our sleeping bags.  I told stories in each tent by the light of new flashlights and our two younger campers were the first to fall asleep without any trouble at all!
We slept with our tent fly open in case the boys needed us through the night and the full moon shone in as brightly as the sun.  I hardly slept a wink. Between the moon light, which was pretty, but bright, and the slight slope to our camp sight, not to mention the buzzing mosquitos and my vivid imagination worrying about the old beat up van that we parked next to down at the trailhead.  When I finally dozed off we heard Carter calling out for us then later Kiefer awoke and just wanted reassurance we were still in the tent beside him.
All in all, they did very well.  And again, the younger ones whom weren’t exactly well received were actually the ones who did the best.
Jim said he heard hooves clomping along on the upper rocks above our campsite first thing in the morning -I didn’t hear a thing! But we all hatched from our tents at about 5:30-6 a.m. and warmed up near the campfire as the temperature had dropped to about 45 degrees through the night.  We had pancakes and syrup on the metal plates and applesauce squeezed out of the tubes for breakfast along with more hot cocoa. And before I could finish all the dishes Carter had “helped” tear down all the tents and packed his pack.
We would have hiked higher to take in the views except Fletcher was refusing to go to the bathroom in the woods so we decided for his health we should start back down the mountain.  (Jim tried to take him to a nearby rock and he said, “No, I’ll wait till we get home.”)  ๐Ÿ™‚
In my heart of hearts, I was reluctant to leave.  As I was washing the dishes in the creek I was appreciating the simplicity of mountain living. How little we really truly require to live.  That we literally carried everything we needed up there on our backs. And as we warmed up by the campfire in the morning, Kiefer and I were saying how grateful we were that God gave us fire. You can cook over it and warm up by it. How when it’s used properly, it’s a really useful l tool.   Griffin surprised me the most when he smiled after devouring his pancake and was sipping his hot cocoa from his beat up metal cup, with tousled hair he said, “This was fun. Can we do it again this trip?”
Maybe not this trip, but soon. We’ll do it again soon. And not just in the backyard!
Grateful that we all got to experience our first family overnight together!
 

Tangled

So moms of girls have to deal with tangles in their daughter’s hair.  This mom to four boys had to deal with some different kind of tangles the other day when I had the boys at my parent’s lake place alone for a few days.

We invited some friends to the lake to join us for the day. Why just have four boys when you can have seven instead? But more realistically, moms of boys must band together and my dear friend and I had some much needed girl-catch-up time while our boys splashed and played in the water.

Where things began to get tangled was when we were out in the boat, all 7 boys and two moms, and we were pulling the boys tubing and then skiing. Looping round and round the lake, making an ocean of waves for the boys to bounce through and see if they could still hang on for dear life.  The patient passengers each waited for the next victim to fall into the depths which could only mean their turn was nearing. Each break we took we would all dive into the water to stay cool until our next stop.  But try as they might, the fourteen little hands just couldn’t help but touch the ski rope.  In sincere attempts to “help” they would wind the rope around their arms and make the loopiest loops you’ve ever seen and inevitably they would toss the rope out to the next victim  skier and there would be an enormous tangle, and I’d have to pull in the rope, again, and untangle it and send it back out to the awaiting skier.

Tangled

Brothers awaiting their turn, hopeful at every turn!

You’ve got to keep laughing!

All smiles on the boat

After what seemed like this happening about 20 times, I finally dropped everyone off at the beach with my friend and went back out with the skier and a spotter.

My seven year old spotter, Kiefer, took some pictures of our friend’s last failed ski attempt as I turned the boat around yet again to pick him up to have another go at it, when Kiefer warns, “Mom, you’re driving right over the rope.” Where he might not know yet how to do anything but put knots in the ski rope, he was absolutely correct about his observation and not seconds later we heard this fatal blow of the rope tangling under the boat in the prop and the motor died.

Evidence that we really did get him up on skis before we tangled the rope

I knew better than to start the motor again. I knew what I had done. Kiefer knew what I had done. Now the challenge was what to do next? We were rapidly drifting away from our dock and with one adult and five boys ashore, I started rowing with a ski to try to get the boat back to shore. That didn’t get us very far, so soon after I jumped into the water and put my old life-saving skills to work pulling the boat with the side stroke.  My nine (and a half) year old, Carter jumped into rescue action from the beach. He loaded everyone on board the pontoon boat and was backing out to come get us before I could even ask him to come help. I’d ride anywhere with him driving, so I wasn’t concerned about him captaining the boat and everyone had on life jackets still from our previous boat ride. In minutes they were at my side and we tied a tow rope to the speed boat and were on our way to the dock. We pulled the ski boat up to the side of the dock and my friend jumped off the pontoon to hold the speed boat. Then Carter put the pontoon in reverse to get out of the way but moments later, the comedy of errors continued and he backed over the tow rope and got his prop tangled! Seriously!? Is this really happening? I was still in the water beside the speed boat and I went to where the ladder is on our dock only to find, there was no ladder there! That’s when my friend fessed up that her younger son had been investigating it and in a way that only boys can, he picked it up from it’s hinges and then it quickly sank to the bottom of the lake, a good 18 feet below where I needed it to be!  ( I later re-told this story to my mom, a mother of two girls who asked me, “Why would he mess with the ladder like that?” to which I responded, “Because he’s a boy!?!!”) Boys learn by doing. Not by being told what to do, or not to do, as the case may be.

Captain Carter

I’ve always heard that people are like tea bags, you never know what’s inside them until you stick them in hot water.

I was grateful that my (external) reaction was to start laughing in disbelief! I mean seriously?! Without a ladder, I couldn’t quickly get out of the water, so I started swimming to rescue Carter and his ship full of  ship mates ages five and under.  It makes me laugh now to think that as Carter was reversing (quickly) away from the dock my friend did say “Oh, I should have gone with themโ€ฆ” It’s hard to anticipate what  nine (and a half) year old captain will do. (or how quickly he might do it!) When I finally reached the crew of crazies on the pontoon Carter had already trimmed the motor up and we could all see the tow rope tangled around the prop.  I asked him to take the key out of the engine, which he showed me was around his neck like a necklace and he’d already done that  in anticipation of what I was going to do next. Then I asked for all the little monkeys to come to the side of the boat to watch me so I could keep my eyes on all them. I explained how dangerous it was and to never touch a prop of a boat, etc. Once that point was made, I began to untangle the rope from prop #1. Once that task was completed, I pulled myself up onto the pontoon boat (not an easy task) and we set our course for the dock, where my friend was still holding the speed boat in place.  We docked the pontoon, and then Carter and I walked the speed boat over to its home in the boat lift. Where we then began wars among the minions about who’s turn it was to crank the boat. Each having a turn, we raised the boat up as high as it would go and we could clearly see the biggest tangle of ski rope knotted mess. I boarded the paddle board and laid on my stomach under the boat, again, explained never to do this at home to our young audience and I untangled boat #2.

After the boats were each rescued, we then had my friend’s tall son dive down to rescue the ladder. He retrieved it on the first attempt! Horrah! Successful rescues all around!

The rest of our visit was mainly smooth sailing. Other than Kiefer poured the bucket of water on our campfire before we were really done with it. Oh, well. I guess if he was done roasting marshmallows everyone else was, too!

Summer diet consists of hot dogs and S’mores – either I’m the best mom ever, or the worst! ๐Ÿ™‚

All said, I think the two moms and seven boys had a great time! And these tangles are the little snags in life that come with the territory of being moms of boys.  Did I mention what they did to the fishing poles?!?

We moms of boys have to stick together!

Gone fishin’